


He Knows I'm Alone

by manicpseudonym



Category: Lupin III, lupin - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depressing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Goemon/Jigen, Isolation, Lots of Whiskey, M/M, Men Crying, Prison, Reality catches up with the gang, Solitary Confinement, Tenderness, but later though, feeling like the world is crushing you, give the monkey a smoke, he needs his cigs man, nicotine withdrawls, zenigata is not having a good time, zenigata is still emotional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25703965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicpseudonym/pseuds/manicpseudonym
Summary: This felt so different: it knotted his insides, made his mouth dry, and had him craving vices he never had before.  Every governing body across the globe was seemingly rejoicing at the fact that the number one most wanted criminal was safely stowed away in a custom-built prison cell.  He could still hear Lupin’s jovial tone crack as he was pulled out of Zenigata’ s grip and forced into an armored vehicle; in a moment, the inspector and criminal shared a single emotion.  There was no joke to be made or punchline at the end of the story, Asène Lupin had made himself one of the most wanted men in the world.
Relationships: Arsène Lupin III/Zenigata Kouichi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. Aftermath of the End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my best friend who turned me onto lupin](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+best+friend+who+turned+me+onto+lupin).



The world seemed to stand still in _that_ single moment for Inspector Zenigata. The way his purpose in life had been upended, the rug being pulled out from under him; all in one _single_ moment. He should have just packed his things and locked his doors, that would have been easier, even if it admitted his more ultimate defeat. Asène Lupin III had been his only case for five long years, days ago he would be thumbing through the file cabinet full of Lupin’s schemes to find clues to his next venture; now the inspector sat at his desk trying not to look the cabinet in the eye as if it would peer back at him.

The inspector put his head in his hands and pushed a paper plate of celebratory cake into the trash bin next to his desk. This felt so different: it knotted his insides, made his mouth dry, and had him craving vices he never had before. Every governing body across the globe was seemingly rejoicing at the fact that the number one most wanted criminal was safely stowed away in a custom-built prison cell. He could still hear Lupin’s jovial tone crack as he was pulled out of Zenigata’ s grip and forced into an armored vehicle; in a moment, the inspector and criminal shared a single emotion. There was no joke to be made or punchline at the end of the story, Asène Lupin had made himself one of the most wanted men in the world. Endless heists and pyramid schemes; Zenigata assumed his final goal was to be one of the rich brutes who had so much money they became the law. The only thing that drowned Lupin’s ghostly voice and blurred his haunting apparition, was the booze the other once loved. The inspector swallowed another bitter gulp of sour whiskey from a flask that made him feel as cheap as the silver tinted metal was.

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Zenigata managed looking at the International Police Chief. His face was relaxed only artificially by the booze, it felt like clay heavy and suffocating over all his features.

“I need you to take another case,” the Chief said setting a manila folder down on the desk. “You can sit in your office glowing from one capture, it’s still your only closer.”

The weary inspector looked up from the folder and was anything but radiant. “Another? But… Lupin- “

“Is in a cinder-block with a feeding tube, he isn’t getting out anytime soon.” a hand pulled the collar of his Italian suit to fit more snuggly over his chest. “Listen, Lupin was your golden goose. You chased that worthless lowlife through the drudges of the world, you abandoned everything but your badge and dedicated every minute to chain him up; I don’t discount that,” Folded hands took the pressure of a chin as the Interpol chief rested his elbows on his desk. “You can’t take anymore time, Lupin was one of many, and we need your skills elsewhere.”

It took many a shaky click of the analog clock before Zenigata swallowed and bowed his head. “I don’t… think I can…” It felt as if the booze was gnawing at his stomach, warming up the inspector’s sore heart. He hadn’t understood how Lupin and him fit together like puzzle pieces, how Zenigata’ s entire career _– entire life –_ had revolved around catching the grinning thief. So why didn’t he feel anything? His final goal was complete, shouldn’t he be happy?

Zenigata was not happy.

“Then you need to sign for a transfer or hand in your badge.”

\---

The weary not Inspector felt the inward shiver of his ribs after his second bottle of whiskey passed his lips, though that was the only form of protest his body gave. Zenigata picked at the hard card stock between his fingers pruning the worn in corners; he raised the postcard to his face. It was one of the Hawaiian Islands, a stupid postcard Lupin has sent to Interpol after one of his tougher scrapes. Zenigata felt the memory warm his chest more than booze ever could, that bastard had escaped onto an already moving cruise ship. The warm vibrant memory of chasing that green suit down a coastline –

 _“Wait… Pops!”_ Lupin looked back as he was shoved into the armored van with Interpol’s seal plastered on the side. Zenigata had never seen such a flash of fear register so quickly across the criminal’s face as he was held back by the Chief from joining his criminal in the van.

He sat up in one motion, regretting it almost instantly. The almost unemployed former inspector’s head felt heavier than the rest of his body as if his brain were drowning in the vice, he was greedily consuming. Zenigata hadn’t yet looked at the transfer papers on his coffee table, he’d been on the couch since walking in and taking off his shoes. 

Transfer seemed better than unemployment in the ever growing economy of Japan in the 70’s; the “oil-shock” had sent them into an upward projection and inflation wasn’t far behind, he couldn’t afford to be jobless when the price of living increased. Papers found their way into his lap after Zenigata set down the postcard, it took a moment for his eyes to focus and form the words together. _Fuchū Prison_ : One of the most secure prisons in the world, and right here in Tokyo. He couldn’t understand why a guard position at Fuchū made his heart skip a beat, and it took a moment for the whiskey to leach out of his pores. That was when he remembered where they sent the great Asène Lupin.


	2. How a Career Ends

The cot under Lupin’s body rocked as he changed positions and tried to find the most comfortable way to sleep while bright artificial lights shined down on him. As if the sun was a bright white bulb that never lowered below the horizon; it must have been some form of torture, Lupin suspected, to leave every cell like on all day and night. Almost to the extent where you forget what meal was breakfast and which was dinner, because that was what you counted by, not hours or minutes but the creaky meal cast the pop of pressure as your beige wrapped powder MRE is sent through a tube. The entire system reminded Lupin of the pneumatic tubes drive-up bank ATMS had, the same tubes he had deposited many a forged check through.

He sat up, unable to find a fitting resting spot and honestly ready to try the floor when the world around him seemed to join in rousing. Lupin could barely hear the undoing of the door at the end Solitary’s cell block and the whine of the meal carts wheels as the guards started depositing a package to each high-risk prisoner. His skin flared, along with his heart rate, as Lupin felt a rake across his arm; cracked lips let out a wheezing cough as his sudden consciousness reeled him into wanting. It had been a week since Lupin had had a cigarette. He had smoked almost every day of his entire life, for better or for worse he was tied to them. The once fearsome thief held his body close trying to stop the violent shaking as his body itched and prickled at every nerve.

_Clunk_

Lupin looked up to see his MRE package sitting in its tube. The suffering criminal shakily found his legs and moved towards the wall, leaning on it as he took the tube from its slot, removed the Made Ready to Eat meal and placed the tube back. He sat himself on the floor and opened the package, his faltering appetite had led him to amass a pile of MRE side pouches in the corner. Lupin would remove the main meal and lead all the other side dishes and juice powders in the corner. He opened the resealable bag and filled it with a little water from his sink and closed it again; patting the pouch to make sure the contents were thoroughly mixed. He pulled the lighter plug out of the wall next to the tube door to heat up his MRE, this was quite like the cigarette lighter Jigen had installed in their many different cars. One he’d used thousands of times to light his and the rough gunman’s shared cigarettes. Lupin swallowed the nostalgia as he set it under the pouch and tried to carefully balance the two with his shaking hands.

The MRE bag puffed up and spit steam from the top, Lupin almost jumped out of his skin in surprise as he had been deep in thought. He carefully removed the bag from the lighter and held the plug between his fingers for a second staring at the red-hot metal at the bottom, so hot it was sure to burn. Lupin remembered his across the way neighbor getting carried out on a stretcher to an unknown infirmary after sustaining an injury from banging his head against the wall… Would a burn do the same trick? An injury that needed immediate care but still left him conscious enough to grab a guard’s taser and fight his way out of this hellhole. His shaking fingers turned the lighter over and just as he was about to pull up his shirt the sudden rap of a baton on his bulletproof glass door made him drop the lighter.

“Don’t even try it.” The guard had to yell so Lupin would hear him through the thick glass and concrete walls. Lupin was too hypnotized by the half-smoked cigarette dangling from the guard’s lips to pick the lighter up and follow through with his plan. In a hazy glance he swore that maybe it was Jigen with a signature smokey breath come to rescue him, but after blinking he could see only malice in the guard’s eyes.

“Hey buddy…” Lupin tried anyway leaning forward and pulling on his collar, “Any way a guy down on his luck could get a smoke?” He smiled toothily, only hesitating for a moment when the guard seemed to laugh and sneer at him.

“Sure thing, pal.” The officer walked beyond the sight of the glass door towards the tube and Lupin waited eagerly for his fix. Only, when the parcel came down it was the guards half smoked butt was all he got. His disgust was beat by desperation as he pulled the mostly smoked cigarette out and held the filter to his lips, relighting the end with the plug lighter and sucking in the last deep puff it had. Holding the smoke in his mouth as if it were his last meal, allowing acrid tobacco to burn his throat before letting it seep slowly from his lips.

He let the cigarette filter fall from his finger and burn itself out, he couldn’t remember a time when he was ever so pressed for nicotine, he had smoked a cigarette all the way to the filter. Lupin’s pride had never taken a hit quite like this one before, they had gone on to assume his every move and built him an inescapable prison cell. The realization of which was too hard for the cigarette to curb as he sat back in his cot, leaving uneaten food and ash on the floor. It had been a normal heist when Zenigata caught up to them and put cuffs on Lupin’s wrist, though he suspected the inspector hadn’t even known the ICPO armored van wasn’t far behind him. In fact, Lupin assumed that Interpol had lost their trust in his favored Pop’s, they must have thought Zenigata was assisting the heist in some way, and that’s why they followed him. In many ways Pops did aid their jobs, even if it were due to his pushover qualities and easily swayed temperament. He shook his head as his mind swirled with the look of shock as Zenigata’ s cuffs were replaced by tighter more modern measures. Lupin held onto the sight of Jigen driving away from the arrest with Goemon in the passenger seat, at the thought he smiled and put his hands behind his head, those two wouldn’t worry over him; he knew they would keep going together or alone they would keep living free and one day he’d worm his way out and join them.

\---

This was the third week Zenigata had dragged himself out of bed, into a guard uniform, and to Fuchū Prison for his new line of work. This shift was the graveyard variety, he sipped his coffee and unlocked the break room with a key on his belt. Zenigata put his breakfast in the fridge and went to the cork board to see what block he would be patrolling that night, his finger slid down the roster until he got to his own name and the former inspector felt his heart skip two beats: Solitary Housing Unit – Risk H. Zenigata almost stumbled back having to take a deep breath, a high-risk unit! That could most definitely house Lupin, he had tried to locate him in the system but Zenigata didn’t have the clearance rank anymore. He had to control himself from running as he walked down the hall and across the breeze way to SHU, walking briskly down the stairs to the high-risk block.

He peered through each door, looking for a sleeping figure he recognized, and when he came upon Lupin’s cell Zenigata knew it in an instant. He was sitting against the wall instead of laying, and Zenigata’ s excitement immediately curbed by the others thin figure and unkempt chin. He wrapped a knuckle against the door and Lupin almost jumped out of his skin, once he was awake Lupin’s body seemed to shake like a leaf in autumn winds.

“Pops?” Lupin’s mouth hung open a little as the other stood dumbfounded and unable to respond. “Have you been demoted?” his lips quirked and made Zenigata’ s throat dry. He gestured for the other to give him a moment, the former inspector went to the guard office at the end of the unit and brought out the shaving tray.

“Don’t try anything.” Zenigata said as he started unlocking the door and locking it behind him, he set the tray next to Lupin on the bed and looked down at him.

“They even took your gun…” Lupin’s voice was weaker even inside the cell, scooting over and letting his legs hang off the bed.

“Like that matters…give me your chin,” Zenigata said trying to sound tough as he gently held the others stubbly skin and lather it with shaving cream.

“You couldn’t have come here just to give me a shave, you missed me, right?” Lupin snickered leaning on the others hand slightly.

Zenigata sniffed and pulled away when the other’s chin was lathered, he went to the sink to wet the razor and stepped on one of the many food packets piled in the corner. “You’re not eating?”

“No appetite for it…” Lupin admitted drumming his fingers on his knees, shaking slightly. “Do you have a smoke?” he asked, desperation heavy on his tone.

Zenigata came back over and took his chin again. “Maybe, now quiet or I’ll nick you.” Lupin nodded and swallowed slightly as he let the other work. Zenigata stuck his tongue out slightly in concentration as he slid the razor down the others curves gently; Lupin pulled his lips in as the other shaved above them delicately. He dropped the razor in the tray and set it aside on the sink, offering Lupin a towel.

Zenigata sat down next to Lupin and passed him a cigarette. “Thank you so much, Pops!” Lupin leaned over and pecked Zenigata’ s cheek affectionately before putting the cigarette between his lips and leaning into the flame of the others lighter. Zenigata grunted a reply and touched his cheek slightly, before taking out a cig of his own to smoke.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” Zenigata admitted looking over at Lupin. “Assumed you’d be concocting an escape plan with the others...”

“No, I’m sure Goemon and Jigen are halfway to Canada right now, living out some mountain man fantasy…” Lupin sighed leaning back on the wall as he smoked.

Zenigata’ s eyes widened slightly. “You don’t know… then?” he looked back at the other.

“Know what Pops?” Lupin raised a brow, opening one eye to gauge the others seriousness before opening both and sitting up again.

“A week or so-ago they tried to break in, to get you out I assume… they barely made it past the first floor due to the tranquilizer darts… they couldn’t book them on a lot because most of Jigen’ s records are in America, but they are still in general population..” Zenigata reached out and touched the others arm gently as Lupin’s eyes filled with the world-shattering realization.

“So, it’s really all over, huh, Pops?” the thief’s voice was weak, and he had to lean onto Zenigata just to avoid from falling over completely.

He swallowed and supported Lupin, wrapping an arm around the others shoulders before pulling the other into a hug. “It would seem so…”

Lupin let out a breath, and Zenigata didn’t dare look down in fear he would see the Great Lupin which he had chased for almost twenty years cry in his arms. His arms tightened around the other as he felt a newfound protective nature wash over him. Lupin deserved prison, sure, but did he deserve this… a man who had never murdered out of spite. “I’m… sorry Lupin…” was all he could manage as he pressed his chin to the top of the others head and let his criminal cry.


End file.
